Reunited By Femi Omololu

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Reunited

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Separated at the check-in counter,

Sometimes after a quick rearrangement to fulfill regulations,

On board the living are in economy, the inanimate in the recesses,

One well strapped, hoping the other is equally well secured.

They arrive at the same time and both are scrutinized,

Both happy to have survived the flight,

It’s time to be reunited,

This should be as easy as the separation,

But this is Ikeja………

 

Standing by the conveyor waiting for the bags,

Round and round they go, followed by claiming eyes,

Thankfully the pace of the spin is slow so there is no dizziness,

Irritatingly it is not fast enough lengthening the wait,

Most bags are black, some with wisely attached colored ribbons,

Brown, grey, red, purple and even pink bags add colour,

Some are 1st class, some premium, others economy,

Some are new but don’t look so,

Some are frequent fliers,

Some are old and have done this before,

“Ghana must go bags” also attend this gathering…..

 

The edge of the ramp is full,

Sometimes it’s hard to see the coming bags,

Blocked by heads which soon look like bags,

Empty trolleys await,

Eager owners await,

Celebrity, Joe Doe, “Ajala” and “Osuofia” all wait,

But the bags take their time,

The early ones keep going round as their owners are never nearby,

The man who picked one bag early still waits for the second bag,

Soon every bag looks like yours,

Some bags are picked and returned,

Mistaken identity.

The impatient start grumbling audibly,

The patient do the same,

Inwards for for now.

The 1st timer expatriate is sometimes amused,

The embarrassed Nigerian host tries to make light humour…….

 

The clock ticks, the bags come, but no one leaves,

A mystery…..

Someone runs after her bag rather than wait for the next spin,

The conveyor stops stimulating groans,

It seems even the bags join in complaining,

More will be heard during the wait for resumption.

Some staff offer to help,

For a fee or a tip of course,

I wonder if they really help speed up the process.

After an hour and half the crowd starts to slowly thin out,

The relief at the reunion is exhilarating,

Impatience grows for those left behind,

Wondering if “na me go carry last today.”

Eventually every bag is picked,

Some damaged, some pilfered, some intact,

Infrequently some go to wrong homes,

Occasionally some bags have taken another flight,

Sparking off a real commotion at the realization,

Leading to another kind of waiting…….

 

This ritual kills the joy of the return,

It’s a harsh reminder of where you now are,

It’s one of the unwelcome welcomes you will receive in the airport,

at customs, at the exit, on the road,

It reminds you to shed the skin of the developed country you just left,

No room for Clark Kent here, you have to be Superman,

Naija is not for slackers, you have to be smart, you have to be sharp,

You also have to be patient and you have to be careful,

You have to be tolerant and realize you can’t change much by talking.

If you don’t learn all this from the baggage recovery ramp in Ikeja,

You will surely get taught when you enter the City.

 

Welcome to Lagos, welcome home.

 

Read More

 

https://femomololu.wordpress.com/

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